Who Run The World
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: Jim Kirk has a very bad day. Spock's isn't much better. Thankfully, Uhura is there to save their asses. (Oneshot)


_A/n: This is my_ vastly _overdue Summer Exchange Challenge entry, which turned into my ALSO LATE New Year's Resolution Challenge entry at The Beta Branch. But at least it's finally done? XD Special thanks to Hope at The Beta Branch for betaing and for the excellent title suggestion. ;D_

 _To: Cariadne - enjoy!_

* * *

 **Who Run The World**

Sulu nearly collapsed to his knees the moment he re-materialized on the transporter pad.

"We…" he panted. "We've made a big mistake."

* * *

This is how it started:

"According to the database, the planet is known as Lothlaxia," reported Spock, sharp eyes scanning the screens before him. "Class M. There is no other recorded information."

"Based on a scan of ze planet," Chekov piped up. "It appears zere are significant signs of humanoid life, Keptin. Little to no technology detected, however."

"Well," said Kirk. "Sounds like the perfect opportunity to go down and explore, spread a little Starfleet diplomacy. Whaddya say, Spock?"

"We should observe them from a great distance first," said the Vulcan. "In the event that they are a primitive species, we—"

"Contamination, screwing up everybody's lives, I know," Kirk waved him off.

Spock cocked his head just a tick. "Were we to beam down in the outskirts, I do not see why we could not gather data on the planet's vegetation and climate, and perhaps observe from afar any cultures that are established, and make further determinations from there about potentially interacting with them."

Gathering general data on unknown planets was helpful to rounding out Starfleet's knowledge about different planets in the galaxy. Looking at plants sounded dry as hell, but it meant getting off the ship, so Kirk was in. He gave Spock a hearty clap on the back.

"That's the spirit. Mr. Sulu? Start the preparations for the away team."

"Aye, sir."

"Just try not to get into any trouble," Uhura teased her captain, knowing exactly who she talking to and how pointless her warning was as a result.

"Come on," Kirk flashed her one of his trademark grins. "What's the worst thing that could happen?"

After more than a year and a half of missions with James T. Kirk, they should have learned to _stop letting him say that_.

* * *

Kirk, Spock, and the rest of the away team hadn't been down on the planet long, perhaps a standard half hour, scanning and exploring a jungle-filled region. Spock led some science officers carefully through the underbrush while Sulu and Vaccaro trailed after Kirk. Kepler helped Spock gather some samples and he distractedly thanked her. Vaccaro was her usual chatty self, commenting on just about everything. If Sulu minded, he didn't show it, though Kirk was ready to tell her to reel it in so he could concentrate on his super interesting jungle scans.

When a dozen or so seven-foot-something warrior women emerged from the trees bearing weapons, Kirk wondered if the decision to come down to the planet had been a good one after all. They surrounded Kirk and the away team, closing in to form a tight circle, shouting and clicking their tongues.

With an uneasy swallow, Kirk laid down his phaser, indicating the others do the same. They were terribly outnumbered.

"Please," he said, holding his hands at shoulder level. He hoped the prototype translators Uhura had pinned on them were doing their job. "I am Captain James T. Kirk of the _USS Enterprise_. We mean you no harm – we are merely explorers."

This, as it turns out, was _not_ what he ought to have said.

* * *

When Sulu came on the comm anxiously requesting immediate evacuation for himself and two officers, it sounded as though he were running. He stumbled to his knees on the transporter pad out of breath seconds later, as the sparkling transporter beams dissipated. Kepler and Vaccaro were no better off, collapsing right beside him, panting and shaking.

"What happened?" Gaila asked, jumping up from her position behind the transporter control console. She helped Kepler to her feet while Vaccaro stayed sitting, clutching her ankle.

"We…" Sulu stumbled down off the platform. "We've made a big mistake."

* * *

This is how Uhura got involved:

Sulu and Kepler went to the bridge and swiftly explained the situation, while Vaccaro was sent to medical to have her ankle looked at. The Lothlaxian women had tried to take them all captive. Kirk and Spock created a distraction so the others could get away. Sulu last saw them getting hauled away, Kirk bellowing for Sulu to run like hell.

"What do they want with them?" Uhura clutched the edge of her chair, her nails digging into the underside. "How do we get them back?"

"Here's the thing…" Sulu swallowed, even more unhappy to relay the next part of the mission gone wrong. "They…one of 'em did grab me for a second down there. Pinned me against a tree with her spear."

He reached up and rubbed the back of his shoulder. Uhura imagined he was bruised underneath his shirt. He still had bits of bark dotted in his dark hair, and a rough scrape on his cheek.

"That prototype translator you gave us did the trick—I did get a little out of her."

"Well?" Uhura prompted, her heart tumbling around behind her ribs.

"She said we weren't welcome here. That our..." He glanced uneasily at Kepler. "Our females had let us run wild and we would have to pay for our…insolence. And for desecrating sacred lands."

Uhura raised her eyebrows. "That sounds bad…"

"Then she hit me." Sulu pointed to the blossoming bruise by his temple. "Kirk got a shot off, I ran, she yelled something about penance and sacrifice. Uhura, it sounded _really_ bad."

She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"And, not one of them tried to go after Vaccaro and Kepler. I think that means something."

Uhura nodded thoughtfully. It wasn't a lot to go on, but it kinda sounded like the Lothlaxians were very similar to the Uhl'kee culture: females were dominant to an extreme degree and the men were little more than slaves. If that was true, then it presented them with an interesting challenge for getting the guys back.

Thankfully, Uhura had some ideas.

* * *

This is how it got oh-so-much worse:

Kirk wasn't trying to run his mouth off. He was just asking questions.

The woman cuffed him again, hard enough that Kirk sprawled back onto the stone floor.

"Perhaps, you should _stop_. _Talking_ ," Spock bit out, keeping his head down.

Kirk moaned. "Yeah, I'm starting to think that's a good idea."

Spock peered at him incredulously as if to say, _Starting?_

The magnificent woman seated on the raised throne spoke. Her voice was sharp and clear and rang out through the expansive stone room, echoing off the columns. Her dark, silken hair was trussed up in fancy knots and spirals, decorated with dyed feathers and beads.

The translator at the men's necks did its job, telling them what the woman had said:

"That's enough."

Kirk raised himself onto his elbows and blinked the sparks from his vision. His jaw smarted from where the warrior woman on his left had struck him—again—and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from asking more questions.

"Men shall not speak," the woman on the throne continued. "Unless spoken to. You are foreigners, you are not welcome here. And," her tone changed to something dripping with disgust as Kirk steadied himself on his knees. "You are _men_."

Kirk ducked his head and took a breath. "Your majesty, we are merely explorers. We didn't know—"

"Silence!"

The warrior raised her hand and Kirk flinched, but the woman stopped. The queen glared down at Kirk.

"You do not listen or you do not understand?"

Kirk kept his head down and mouth shut. He heard the soft exhale of Spock sighing through his nose beside him and barely resisted trying to make light of the situation.

"For desecrating our sacred lands with your filth," the woman continued. "You shall be punished."

A shiver trickled down Kirk's spine and protests rose to his lips, but he swallowed them. There was zero chance that boded well for them.

"And for being a disrespectful insect, you shall be punished."

Kirk clenched his teeth together. There had to be something he could say, something he could _do_ … but with his phaser confiscated, his comm smashed, and his gender apparently wholly offensive, he couldn't find a single thing to say or do that wouldn't make things even more awful than they already were.

He chanced worried sideways look at Spock, who might as well have been carved from stone for all the emotion and movement coming from him.

The women guards hauled Kirk and Spock to their feet and dragged them out of the throne room.

* * *

"So, we transport them out." McCoy's face was drawn in an intense scowl, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"We cannae," said Scotty with a grim shake of his head. "They've got them underground or sommat."

"But we can see bio-signs, damn it!" McCoy threw his hand in the air and let it smack down against his thigh.

"The transporter signal won't penetrate," explained Gaila. "We've been trying non-stop. It won't latch on."

"The scanner only shows broad numbers," Scotty added. "We cannae pinpoint theirs alone without better signal strength."

Uhura clenched her jaw and inhaled, then said, "So we go down there and find them ourselves."

"Damn straight," McCoy nodded.

Scotty stepped forward. "Och, right, lass. If you think that's the way to—"

Uhura held up her hand to stop him. "Sorry, Scotty, McCoy. I said _we_." She gestured to Gaila. "Men are worth nothing down there, remember?"

The chief engineer looked both horrified and relieved. "Fair point. Well then—have fun. Bring 'em home."

McCoy took a breath full of indignant, loyal protest but Uhura fixed him with a hard stare. "We've got to send only women down or we risk losing you, too." She softened and added, "We'll get them back."

He clamped his mouth shut. She could see how badly he wanted to argue with her, knew how much he wanted to go with her to get Spock and his best friend back himself. But she was right and they all knew it.

McCoy relented with a sigh. "Just be careful."

She reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "We will."

* * *

The cell wasn't a much better place to be—cold, dreary, stone, and not an exploitable flaw in sight. Kirk ached from the rough treatment at the hands of the Lothlaxians. He gingerly touched his finger to his swollen lip and the shackles around his wrists clanked.

"Captain, is there a specific reason you were intent on antagonizing the Lothlaxians?" Spock asked mildly. He folded his chained hands in his lap, dirty from searching for a non-existent escape from this room.

Kirk glared. "I wasn't being antagonizing on purpose."

Spock raised his eyebrow. "A habit of yours, I have noticed."

"This from the _Vulcan_ ," Kirk mumbled under his breath. When Spock shot him questioning look, Kirk shook his head. "Never mind. I guess we just…wait."

They stayed confined for a good couple hours, and all the while Kirk was restless. He paced—as much as he could with his ankles joined by chains—and fretted silently about what was taking the crew so long to find them. He wondered if Sulu had even made it back okay, he ran his hands over the filthy walls praying he'd missed something, and he ignored Spock's urging to sit down and _calm_ down.

"Rather than expend energy attempting to change a situation you clearly cannot—" Spock began.

"I can't sit still," Kirk cut him off. "I'm chained up in a dark cell on an unknown planet and Sulu might be dead and I don't what the hell we're going to do and I'm _not_ gonna sit still."

Spock didn't comment further.

Finally, a few epic warrior women came to get them. They cracked open the heavy cell door and Kirk strangled the urge to tackle one to the ground. The shortest of the three women was almost two feet taller than him and probably knew eight different ways to kill him with her pinky finger. Instead, he held up his hands and ducked his head a little—maybe playing submissive would earn him some points?

"Come," the tallest woman snarled.

The Lothlaxians dragged Kirk and Spock down dank, torch-lit hall after torch-lit hall, past other dreary prison cells, and up a set of twisting stairs, until they reached some sort of stone antechamber. The women hauled them to a stop in front of a massive set of doors, intricately engraved with gruesome scenes that reminded Kirk of the gladiators of ancient history.

The tall one stepped in front of them, moved into their space, imposing and completely terrifying. Her steely expression dripped with disdain as she looked down at them.

"You will fight," she said, harsh and icy.

"You will try," said one of the others behind Kirk, laughing snidely.

Kirk swallowed and his gut churned. _Fight? Fight who?_ He glanced at Spock and looked back at the woman—at the strange pelts and feathers she wore. _Or what?_ he thought, and thought he just might throw up right then and there.

The doors cranked open slowly from the outside, and the tall Lothlaxian woman stepped aside to reveal dirt and sun and what looked like possibly an arena of some sort. The ugly scenes on the door suddenly made horrible, gut-wrenching sense. Kirk let out of a curse without thinking and got cuffed up the back of his head for it. He bit back a retort with watering eyes.

Spears prodded them out into the blinding sunlight. The crowd roared. Kirk's stomach clenched as he realized the sheer scale of the arena. He glanced down nervously at the heavy chain binding their wrists together.

"It would seem our situation has not improved, Captain," Spock said dryly.

"Thanks for that astute observation," Kirk grumbled.

A great horn sounded, reverberating off the cavernous walls. The crowd – thousands of women, standing in row upon stone row—roared and stomped their feet.

Yeah. They were screwed.

* * *

This is what happened next:

When the gong sounded, a gate the size of a small house at the other end of the arena laboriously slid up into the rocks. The crowd's energy swarmed and spiked and pounded against Kirk's ears. He forgot to breathe when he spotted a massive scaly leg emerge from the hole behind the gate.

He strained fruitlessly against his shackles.

"Captain, normally I would advise that we stay calm," said Spock, his voice trembling enough to let Kirk knew just how frightened he really was despite all efforts to hide it. "But I believe our only real course of action is to _run_."

Some great creature—gray and pink and green, horns, teeth—ambled out into the sunlight. It let out a guttural roar that reverberated around the arena. The crowd screamed.

Kirk and Spock ran.

All in all, the fight was blessedly short-lived. The monster tore after the pair of them, and rather than let it kill them both, Kirk suddenly veered to the left and cat-called to get the beast's attention on him. Spock shouted out some protests but Kirk refused to listen—just bolted for the far side of the arena with the thing barrelling down on him.

The creature overtook Kirk, sending him sprawling and wheezing. Pain shot through his legs where the monster's giant foot clubbed him and as the thing loomed over him, roaring and spraying hot, sticky spittle, Kirk yelled and covered his head and waited to be devoured.

A piercing whistle cut the air and the animal backed off in a heartbeat. The whistle pulsed and the monster ambled away, as if suddenly completely uninterested in Kirk. The crowd booed and hissed and moaned, but the creature retreated to its cave and the gate slid back down.

Kirk clutched at his chest and fought to get his breath back. His head swirled with adrenaline and he rolled onto his side, eyes searching the arena for Spock. He spotted him on the far other side, staring in shock and confusion up at a section of seats that jutted out of the rock wall, high and separate from the rest of the crowd.

Kirk hauled himself to his feet and looked up too, squinting against the sun, and _holy shit_. There was Uhura and Gaila, standing with the queen, and staring right back down at them.

* * *

When they dragged him and Spock back into the dark, expansive throne room, Kirk's first thought was _Thank God_ swiftly followed by _Where the hell did they get those clothes?_ He had never seen the fine silks and robes before, nor the sparkling bangles and golden earrings. They looked like heiresses from another world or goddesses, deigning to descend for just a moment. Gaila almost ruined the moment by shooting him the quickest, tiniest of worried but reassuring smiles behind Uhura's back as they approached.

"You have no idea how I'm glad I am to see you," said Kirk, striding forward to meet her, his chains clanking noisily. "You won't believe what just about—"

He reeled when she smacked him, a harsh slap across the face. Gaila covered her hand with her mouth then hastily adopted a furious, disgusted look on her face.

" _Ow!_ What—"

"Don't you dare speak to me," Uhura spat, as sharp and cutting as any of the Lothlaxians. She was shorter than him, yet the fierceness she projected made her tower and Kirk took a step back without thinking. "How dare you shame me like this! How _dare_ you!"

Kirk gaped.

"Did you honestly believe you could run and I wouldn't find you? You are far more small-minded than I thought."

"I…um..."

This time it was one his Lothlaxian captors who delivered the blow and Kirk stumbled to his knees, his head spinning. Oh, he was _super_ done with this whole damn day.

Gaila hissed in sympathy and Uhura held her teeth together, as determined and solid as a column of marble.

"He's always had a mouth on him, that one," she said scornfully, though he saw the worry in her eyes.

Kirk's head throbbed where he'd been struck by the warrior, and he tore his gaze away from Uhura, belatedly realizing what she was trying to do, when the Lothlaxian queen smirked in approval.

"Apologies...your Highness," said Spock. He ducked his head as low as he could, injecting his voice with all kinds of sorrow and shame. "We have failed you."

Kirk quickly followed suit. "We were—are—weak," he murmured.

"They are not simple explorers?" asked the queen, clicking and snapping out staccato sounds that formed into words through the translators.

Uhura scoffed out a laugh. "Hardly. They are my indentured men, sworn to my service, with eight years left in their respective debts. I certainly will be adding more years to their sentence after this. And they will be properly punished for this extreme act of insolence."

Gaila lifted her chin, exuding a cool regalness that suited her as scarily well as Uhura's intensity. Kirk averted his eyes when Uhura and the queen's attention slid back to him.

"I'll see to it personally they won't see the light of day for several months for this incredible violation." Uhura stepped forward and nudged his leg with her boot. "Get up."

Kirk struggled to his feet and kept his head down. He could feel the hostile stares of the Lothlaxians coming at him from every angle. If Uhura and Gaila really got them out of this, he'd give them both a week off. And a raise. And anything they wanted.

"They won't be a problem now," said Uhura. "You may keep your chains."

The warrior women shared skeptical glances and Kirk did his best to look as small, weak, and pathetic as possible. He couldn't see what Spock was doing, but hoped he was doing the same. He lifted his arms and the Lothlaxian woman who'd enjoyed using him as a punching bag all day reluctantly opened up his shackles. Uhura took a moment to thank the queen, then faced her "slaves".

"Come along," Uhura instructed coldly. She turned on her heel and marched towards the exit, Gaila at her side. Chins up, haughty and fierce and incredible.

Kirk and Spock trailed behind, in their wake, heads down and hearts pounding. Kirk limped and hobbled after his run-in with the arena-monster, but clenched his jaw and bit down on the pain. None of them dared speak until they'd left the Lothlaxian dwellings far behind.

"Are you okay?" Gaila asked, tucking her arm under Kirk's so he didn't have to walk by himself anymore. He exhaled in relief at the support.

Uhura rushed to Spock, trailing her fingers delicately over the Vulcan's many bruises and cuts.

"Just get me home," Kirk mumbled.

* * *

This is how they ended up in Quarantine:

Kirk exhaled with relief again the moment his feet materialized on the transporter pad. He wanted nothing more than to collapse somewhere and sleep for a week. One day inside a Lothlaxian prison had seemed like a year somewhere else.

"Hold right there," said McCoy, holding up his hand. The transporter pad was encircled with safety glass.

"What is it, doctor?" asked Spock.

"Oh, come on," Kirk groaned. "I seriously need to lie down right now – you don't know what we've been through."

"You'll tell me all about it later in ridiculous detail, Jim, but right now all of you need to go straight through that chamber door to Quarantine."

"Quarantine?" Uhura and Kirk chorused. Spock raised his eyebrow and Gaila glanced at Uhura worriedly.

"We found some pretty scary microbes taking up residence on Sulu and Vaccaro when I was checking them over," the doctor explained. He held up his scanner, passing it before each of them as he spoke. "Contagious, fever-and-vomit inducing, potentially fatal if not treated."

"Perfect," Kirk grumbled. "This day just keeps getting better."

"What do you need us to do?" Spock, much more sensibly, asked.

McCoy gestured. "Head through to Quarantine and scrub down. We've got a nice little salve all mixed up for you to put on after, and we'll give you a quick hypo-shot after for good measure. Anybody feeling dizzy?"

They shook their heads and confirmed they weren't, so McCoy nodded with satisfaction.

"Good, sounds like nobody will need a follow-up," he said. "Now hurry up and get in there."

"Let's go," Uhura tugged on Kirk's uninjured arm.

He groaned and winced. "You know, we're not down there anymore—technically you can't order me around."

Uhura huffed. "Watch me."

* * *

First was a quick rinse, then it was a change of clothes. They took turns in the small antechamber, changing out of their clothes and into sterile underclothes that McCoy had already provided. Next up was applying the salve.

Uhura was first through, and Kirk next. She cringed when he limped into the room and he could only imagine how his face looked, if it was as bad as it felt.

"Oh, Jim…"

"It's worse in this light." He groaned and sat down on the bench, gesturing to the blue and white lights that lit the small room. "Probably."

"What did they do to you?" she asked.

Kirk shook his head. "Hit me. A lot."

Uhura reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze. "Sorry we didn't get you out sooner."

"You got us out at all," he said seriously. "That's all that matters."

Then, because he was Jim Kirk and couldn't stand to let anything stay too somber for more than twelve seconds, he cracked a smile.

"And before the big, ugly, mutant lizard thing that wanted to eat my guts did in fact do exactly that, so, you know. Bonus!"

She shook her head and retrieved the jars of ointment. They set to work rubbing it over their limbs and faces. Spock joined them, followed by Gaila, and they began spreading the salve over themselves as well. When he tried to reach his back, Uhura gestured for him to turn, so he spun to sit sideways on the bench.

"You know, back at the Academy, I would've given anything to have your hands on me, but this is really not what I had in mind."

Uhura laughed and worked the salve across Kirk's back. "Watch your mouth, Captain, my boyfriend is standing right over there."

Spock raised his eyebrow and Uhura only laughed again.

Outside the double-paned protective glass, McCoy pressed down the comm button. "That oughta do it," he said. "Now you just need to stick it out in there for about a half an hour, 'til we can be sure the bugs are all gone."

"Bones…" Kirk whined.

McCoy frowned. "Jim, I'm not letting you out until I know you're not going to be puking and dying."

"But look at my face! Did you see my legs?" He pointed out the rainbow of bruises. "I need a bed, please, for the love of God, Bones. Or alcohol. Or both."

"Jim, just do what you're told. Trying to save your life here, damn it."

"Et tu, Bones?"

McCoy rolled his eyes.

* * *

This is how the day ended:

Kirk settled into one of the cushy chair in his quarters with a wince. McCoy wordlessly passed him the bottle of Jack he refilled his own cup from. His friend took it gratefully. Spock passed on the alcohol, content to sip from the mug in his hands.

"Remind us to stop listening to you when you say nothing bad will happen," the doctor said wryly.

Kirk glanced at McCoy, then at Spock, and couldn't stop a chuckle at the sight of the Vulcan looking so bruised and miserable and pretending he wasn't. McCoy's lips quirked up at the corners though he tried to fight it and he held his glass out. Kirk clinked his against McCoy's. They gestured to Spock who added his mug to the mix with a soft _chink_.

"Remind us to get Uhura and Gaila something really, _really_ nice next time we're in port," said Kirk.

 **-end-**

* * *

 _A/n: Thanks for reading! Feedback is love. :)  
_


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